Funeral
by fireglow4ever
Summary: "Bakura closed his eyes and sighed. Funerals... why did he even come? 'Ryou, I'm here for Ryou.' One shot.


**I do not own Yugioh. If I did, Dan Green would voice almost everyone, Seto Kaiba would win at least once against Yami without cheating, and Bakura and Ryou would have a bigger part! Yeah, you know you wish I owned Yu-gi-oh, don't ya? **

**Just so you know, I typed this up in about three hours, non-stop, so there are probably a few mistakes I missed. In fact, there's probably a lot. So, anything you see that makes you want to hit me with a glass bottle, take a note of it and tell me. **

**And, if it makes you feel any better to hit me over the head with a glass bottle... I dare you to find me! Mwahahahahaha!... Oh crap! Changing profile!**

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Bakura sat on the hard wooden benches and stared straight ahead, not looking at the sobbing people around him. The church was adorned with flowers and the brilliant sunlight outside shown through the stained glass windows, lighting the floor with gaudy colors, contrasting with the somber mood. At the front of the church behind the podium rested a coffin, the top opened for all to see the young boy resting in it. A table was set up nearby, on which rested more flowers and the hikari's picture, his soft innocent face lit with a warm smile. All around, people wiped there eyes and held onto each other, wailing. Bakura closed his eyes and sighed. Funerals... why did he even come?

_For Ryou, I'm here for Ryou._

Bakura sighed again and opened his eyes. He dug his nails into his thighs and quickly blinked away the moisture in his eyes. What was this? The depressing atmosphere must be getting to him. He was Bakura. He didn't feel sadness, only hate. The hollow feeling in his chest wasn't sorrow, it was... something else...

He lowered his eyes and focused on his legs, brushing little fuzzballs from his black pants. Bakura started fiddling with his black tie and smoothing out his white, button-down shirt. He shouldn't be here. He wasn't welcome. Bakura clasped his hands in his lap and held them there. Now his eyes were fidgety, flickering around the room. The Pharaoh's little group were huddled up in the front pew. Joey and Tristan were struggling to contain their emotions, jaws locked tightly, and Tea was shamelessly bawling her eyes out. The Pharaoh wasn't with them. He was near the back two pews in front of Bakura, staring straight ahead, not moving. Like Bakura, the royal just needed some space. The two spirits had called a truce after the accident. It wouldn't be fair to the boy's memory to fight so soon after his death. Even Bakura respected the rights of the dead.

The thief moved his gaze from the back of the Pharaoh's head to the right-hand side of the church where the Domino High music teacher was playing the guitar and singing gently. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but her voice was steady.

_"If I die young, bury me in satin,_  
_Lay me down on a bed of roses._  
_Sink me in the river, at dawn,_  
_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom_  
_I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger_  
_And I've never known the lovin' of a man_  
_But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand_  
_There's a, boy here in town says he'll_  
_Love me forever_  
_Who would have thought forever could be severed by_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_  
_I've had just enough time..."_

Bakura rubbed his chest, wishing the strange feeling there would go away. It felt like... emptiness. The lust for revenge and anger that usually settled around his heart was gone. There was nothing but a numb void. He couldn't even muster hatred for the Pharaoh. Finally, Bakura groaned and stood. He walked up the aisle a bit and sat down next to his mortal enemy, looking straight ahead. Bakura saw the Pharaoh's eyes glance over at him a moment before they moved back to the coffin. They stayed silent for a long time, not speaking.

The thief finally broke the stillness, "This is wrong."

"What is?" the Pharaoh asked, his eyes still riveted on the casket.

"This," Bakura said, gesturing at the funeral, "It wasn't his time."

"He was so young," the Spirit of the Puzzle said softly. Neither of them would speak his name. It was just... not right...

The thief looked over at the Pharaoh and noticed his eyes were closed now, a tear sliding slowly down his face. His hands were relaxed and his breaths were deliberate and slow.

The white haired man looked away, disturbed at the sight of the Pharaoh crying. If he was honest with himself, it scared him.

Bakura shook his head and thought back a week, the day of the car crash. The sickening smell of the hospital. He'd kept himself distant from everyone who sat around the waiting room. Why had he gone to the hospital? Bakura still wasn't sure. No one else seemed to know either. Nobody cared though when the doctor came in, his professional mask firmly in place. "He lost consciousness instantly, he didn't feel any pain. He went peacefully. I'm very sorry for your loss." The moment of stillness as everyone sucked in a breath, then Tea's cry of sorrow. Bakura had felt so numb. He couldn't be gone. It's couldn't be real. He's too innocent, he has so much left to live for...

The Spirit of the Ring snapped out of his reveree as the priest made an announcement. "If you would please line up for your final goodbyes. We are about to close the casket."

The Pharaoh stood, as did Bakura. The royal looked at him in surprise, but Bakura just shrugged his shoulders and walked up the aisle, plucking a white rose from the decoration on the side of a pew as he made his way up to the coffin.

The line moved quicker than he'd expected. The people in front of him weren't calm enough to string a sentence together and just walked away, dissolving once again into tears. When it was Bakura's turn, he just stared at the young hikari lying there, looking as serene as if he were asleep. The thief could finally believe what the doctor had said about the teenager dying peacefully. Part of him was thinking about how the coroner had merely staged the boy to look this way, but the other just marveled at how tranquil the young face looked. He set the pure white rose he held over the cold hands folded neatly on the boy's chest and lay his hand on the teenager's cool forehead. Bakura whispered a few ancient burial rites he recalled from the distant past to hurry the young man to the afterlife and pulled his hand away.

Without looking back, he walked back down the aisle to the large oak doors. Behind him, Bakura could feel the eyes of everyone in the church follow his movements.

The thief got into his car and started the engine, wiping his watering eyes with his sleeve. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove off, following a familiar route back home. His chest felt sore... empty... it hurt to think about the still face in the coffin, the pale, delicate fingers interlaced.

Bakura shook his head and turned into his driveway, turning off the engine and getting out. He opened the front door and stepped into the silent house. Bakura walked up the stairs and drifted slowly down the hallway to Ryou's room, still feeling numb. He opened the door and stepped inside, walking over to the form curled up on the floor. "Ryou," Bakura said softly, kneeling next to his hikari, "Wake up Ryou."

The boy's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open and stared at him a moment, trying to remember something that had slipped from his mind as he slept. Bakura watched Ryou's features slowly contort into an expression of grief. "Yugi..." he sobbed softly, burying his face in his arms.

Bakura gently pulled him upright and held him, letting Ryou cling to his shirt and cry. The poor hikari had been too upset to go to the funeral, so Bakura had gone in his place. The thief rubbed Ryou's back gently and looked up at the boy's dresser where Yugi's picture rested, a burnt out candle on either side. He sighed and buried his face in Ryou's fluffy white hair. It was only too easy to imagine Ryou being in that car accident, not Yugi. Ryou lying still in a coffin with his fragile hands overlapping on his chest. Bakura pulled the boy even closer, wrapping his arms tightly around the slender, shaking frame. "It's alright, Ryou," Bakura whispered, feeling a few tears fall down his cheeks, "It's going to be okay..."

Ryou sobbed into his chest until his tears finally slowed and stopped. Bakura pulled back a little and saw that the boy had fallen asleep in his arms. He gave a small grin and picked his hikari up, placing him on the bed. As Bakura started to pull up the blankets to cover the boy, he saw that Ryou's fingers still clung tightly to his shirt. Smiling, he lay down next to Ryou, wrapping his arms around him. Bakura pressed his ear to his hikari's chest and listened to the strong, steady heartbeat for a long while. Every thump making him relax a little more. After a few minutes he lay down and nestled the white, fluffy head under his chin. The small body was warm, and every few seconds Ryou's chest would raise and fall as he breathed. Such simple things... a heartbeat, warmth, a breath...

But they were the only things Bakura needed from Ryou to be happy.

Bakura smiled and closed his eyes, falling into a gentle slumber.

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**Aww... It's so fluffy! Btw, the song I used is "If I die young" by The Band Perry.**

**Please review!**


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